Lifetime original STAB
by Artemis Requiem
Summary: Artemis and Sand


Malls are a byzantine hell contrived to punish and oppress. This much is clear to Artemis already. She was assaulted with toxic scented clouds upon entry, and upon threatening the offenders with proper justice was requested to leave by some manner of guardian. They were inept, however, and easily brushed aside as she continued her explorations. Useless shoes meant to cripple. Clothing that restricts and reveals at the same time. Home furnishings that seem durable and affordable and-that actually isn't so bad. And then...the electronics section. Lifetime cable network. A touching drama of one woman's struggle for custody from an abusive ex-husband, while she simultaneously battles with cancer and works at her law firm job to fight the environmental depredations of a coal company into her bucolic mountain town against all odds. It is transfixing. It is enraging. It results in Artemis lifting a five thousand dollar plasma screen, ripping it from its moorings in a shower of sparks, and hurling it through a display of lawnmowers. "WHO shall pay for these offenses!"

In a blue column of light in front of the electronics store, a man in a gas mask and glowing green goggles appears. "I don't understand it either." His voice is raspy, filtered and reverbed, more grainy than any human voice has a right to be.

SIX HOURS AGO

Sand wakes up screaming.

The mall? Nightmares, you are taking me to the mall? That hardly seems fair that I have to suffer nightmares /and/ the mall. Wesley Dodds, how did you do it?" Sand asks.

NOW

Sand looks at the broken TV, and holds up a gloved hand to an enraged Mall cop, who's armed with a novelty replical Klingon knife from the cutlery store.

Artemis was almost halted at the door for coming in with a javelin in hand. This was leaned somewhere close by when the centerpiece of home theater technology was hurled into lawn and garden. It was picked up nextly and sent through the screen of another nearby offender, an old-school but reliable CRT, which crackles and pops alarmingly as it sparks up. Of course, the javelin wiggles itself free of the wreckage and returns to Artemis's hand as the hero appears. She pauses at his words, raising one red eyebrow. "You fail to comprehend the lives of women, O masked one?"

"No, Miss. I fail to comprehend why anyone would need a television that large in size," Sand says. He turns to the Security Guard, "I'm with the Justice League."

"You look like a serial killer," the guard says.

"Your analysis of what a serial killer looks like goes a long way in telling me why you are not a real police officer, Mall Man," Sand replies. "Miss, where are you from? Why have you come so far to watch television in the Mall" Sand crosses his arms over his chest, "I knew you would be here... but I know precious little else about the situation."

Now that the question has been placed, Artemis must consider it. "Why indeed, such a sizeable portal for offense." She muses on this lightly. "You, inept guardian, dispose of that overly-artificed plaything before you harm yourself, let alone any others." She points an accusing finger at the security guard. "Masked One, what do you mean you knew I would be here. I did not announce my coming. I am Artemis of the Bana-Mighdall. Recently come to this 'United States' of which the patriarchal world seems to center around."

"God Bless America, Artemmis of Bana-Mighdall," Sand replies, voice amplified to an awkward loudness.

The guard seems unsure, and places the replica Star Trek dagger on the floor, and instead reaches for his walkie talkie.

"You see, Miss of the Bana-Mighdall, I am cursed. My curse is dreaming. I only dream in nightmares. Something very bad might happen at this Mall today. "

Sand takes the opportunity to step toward the novelty knife and kick it away. "Who are you looking for?"

The amplification gets a bit of an unladylike nosewrinkle from the tall Amazon as she gives the store area a quick survey once again. Security guards, customers staring from a very wide radius away, those that didn't outright flee. "Cursed to dream in nightmares-you are a seer, then? Are you a son of Morpheus?" Hostility creeps into her tone, and her hand tightens around the javelin in hand. "I search for no man-only for understanding of this place." She advances from the eletronics section into the main aisleway. "But it eludes me still! I cannot fathom what manner of device this even is!" She lifts a display model blender from a stand, casually jerking it free of the bicycle-lock that in theory protected it from theft.

"Morpheus? Hrm. I hadn't considered that," Sand replies calmly, goggles flickering to a dimmer shade of neon green as Artemis picks up the blender. "I'm not a hundred percent sure what that thing does, Miss. But believe me when I tell you that it's useless. You're in a hub of uselessness. You're not in America, you're in a Mall."

Thwe guard approaches again, "My boss wants to know who's going to pay for this!"

"The Justice League," Sand rasps non-chalantly, handing the Guard a credit card with Batman's frowning face printed on it. "I don't "She doesn't mean any harm. Do you, Miss?"

In some ways, Artemis looks relieved. She is not crazy, it IS actually a useless object. SMASH. A bit on the willfully destructive side though. "Payment can also rendered in blood if your management prefers. Have them send out their champ-" She breaks off her monologue as the son of Morpheus (as she now thinks of him) offers out an icon of the Bat. "I did not realize the face of the unsmiling one could serve as legal tender."

"Credit is a dangerous and wonderful thing, as I've come to understand it, Miss," Sand answers."You know The Batman, then? I've only met him a few times."

"LAdy, our champion only gets paid $10 an hour... and he's me! Yikes!" the Guard exclaims, taking the credit card with shaking hands.

Artemis looks at the man dubiously as he makes this assertion. "Your enterprise does not take its honor quite seriously enough." She sniffs a bit. Tries to calm her temper. The oracles always said it would be her downfall... "I have seen his visage, or images of it, in many of your magazines and newspapers. Him and the man with the curl." She makes a gesture at her forehead, mimicing Superman's distinctive hair issue. "And of course, Diana of Themyscira."

"I work for them, in a way, Miss," Sand says with a nod. He gestures to the food court and the exit beyond. "Whatever you're hoping to find in America, it's not here. You won't find it by breaking things, even useless bauble like that television. We have rules. They might not all make sense to you at first, Miss, but most of them were written by Great Men... men who would have liked to throw that mixing machine to the ground like /you/ did. But these Great Men showed restraint, even as their thoughts drifted to destruction. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Artemis gives a really heavy, exasperated sigh. "You should just like the Great Mothers always saying I should not throw a camel just to strike a single archer. If I do not, they will never learn!" Some annoyances are immortal. She shakes her head a bit, which sends her topknot into wild undulations. "You work for them, then, the Three?" She refocuses. "I had perhaps had it in mind to seek out their agents in this country."

"I'm not as... up to speed as some of their other 'agents,' Miss. I came here because I saw entrails behind the ppretzel stand. In a dream, of course." He continues to walk, mall patrons looking at him uneasily, clutching shopping bags and build-a-bears to their chests. "We're called the Justice League."

"The Justice League, yes. I have heard the name." Artemis, for lack of better direction, moves after Sand. "You have not stated your own name, however, Masked One." This brings another frown to her face as she passes by the various departments between their location and the entrance to the main mall.

"Oh. How rude of me," Sand monotones. "Sand. Listen, I'm sorry I'm the first League member you chanced to meet since you came from wherever it is you live... do you want me to tell Wonder Woman you're looking for her?" He pushes the exit door open, holding it for Artemis and an old woman carrying a GAP bag.

"Thank you, young man."

"Ma'am," Sand replies.

Artemis watches as the old woman departs the mall, narrowing her eyes slightly as if expecting a trap. "If you would be so kind." She responds, finally, then squints her eyes a bit at a return to normal daylight after the eerie artificial mall-twilight. "Sand of the Justice League, I thank you."

"I won't lie to you, Miss. I'm hesitant to leave you alone, but this isn't really my department. You can either go it alone from here, which I hesitate to have you do, or come up to the LEague Watchtower... as a guest," Sand says with a shrug. "Beyond that, I'm powerless." Sand's gaze is transfixed on a hybrid car. He cocks his head to the side and watches it putter off. "That car looks likke half of a car. And a mouse."

Artemis rests one hand very dramatically on her hip, lifting her chin haughtily at an SUV That honks its horn at her, all standing around in a unitard. "Where is this Watchtower located? Would the Justice League honor guest-right or would I be made hostage immmediately upon arrival? I find it hard to trust, Sand, though I sense that your own heart is true." The Hybrid car is examined somewhat quizzically. "It is smaller and quieter than its brethren, though in truth they all look like steel traps to me."

"We don't take hostages. Or negotiate with terrorists. You should be fine. Nothing's ever a certainty, thouygh, is it?" Sand asks, in a relatively quiet rasp. As the SUV honks, Sand presses a finger to his hear. "Some of the old ones were okay. Noisier. But they had... character. Watchtower, this is Sand. Bring the two of us up on my mark." "And the watchtwoer? It's in space," he adds.

Artemis gives this statement due consideration as Sand explains, crossing her arms with the javelin pinned carefully against her body. "Indeed, certainty is a rare quantity in Man's world." She mutters darkly to herself. "Wait, it is where-" Space what? She kind of actually does know what that is, having spent a bit of time on Earth, just not enough to make up for a sizeable gap of not on Earth.

Sand points upward, "Beyond the sky. It sounds crazy. But it somehow works. Mqake no mistake, though... the Real America built that tower. And it's amazing."

"I will believe this when I see it," Artemis grumbles heavily. "Teleport us now," Sand says into his communicator.


End file.
